


If I Wasn't So Nervous

by ASockAndEt



Category: Original Work
Genre: One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:55:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29234133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ASockAndEt/pseuds/ASockAndEt
Summary: A short story about Charles' struggle to leave his room





	If I Wasn't So Nervous

She stands there with her hands clasped behind her back, smiling sweetly. Her black hair is long, wavy and curly as it sways around her knees. She is the picture of innocence. But the look in her eyes is accusing and mean. It strikes fear into my heart and I wrap the blankets tighter around me, refusing to meet her eyes from across the room.

"Charles..." Her voice is light and sweet, oozing with a sick cheerfulness. Her smile grows wider and I start trembling.

"No."

"Coward!" At once her voice is a high shriek like nails across a chalkboard. She screams more insults as she comes at me, hands outstretched like a banshee. "Bastard! Shut-in! A loser who can't even open a damned door!"

"Go away!" I scramble into the corner of the bed, pushing myself against the wall but she shoots forward even quicker, taking fistfuls of blanket. With a pull, she drags me off the bed. I crash headfirst and the clink of plates and metal utensils sounds under me. Ignoring the pain in my head from landing headfirst, I shove myself back against the bed. She towers over me despite being half my height.

"Get up!" She shouts, looking down at me with eyes beyond frustration, seething a blood red. Her hair seems to come alive, snakes writhing in every direction. "Get the fuck up! Get out!"

"No!" I try to crawl under the bed, heaving out a sob. But she grabs my shirt and drags me into the middle of the room, the sound of papers crinkling beneath me. I kick and punch but nothing hits her. "Okay, okay!"

She lets go of me and my head hits the corner of a book with a groan. I look up at her from the floor, nearly in a fetal position.

Her glaring eyes makes me avert my own again. She speaks and the sudden quietness of her voice shoot more streaks of fear through my heart. My heart overflows with tears of terror. "Up."

I stumble to my feet immediately, hands wringing each other as I try to come up with words.

"Y-You're not real-!" I yell before she cuts me off, screeching wordlessly. She shoves me back to the wall and slams both her hands next to my head.

"And what about outside?" She snarls, eyes blazing with disbelief. "Is it real? All you see of it now are pictures and words and nothing else! Was any of it real?!"

She swings one of her hands towards the door locked tight and shut. Countless chains hang over it, deadbolts lining up and down the frame. "Is there even a world out there? Do you know? Do you?!"

My mouth flutters open, trying to form the words: *Of course it's real, why wouldn't it be?*

"And what if it isn't?" Her words are quiet and shuttering, the anger dissolving into fear. Her face turns a cold shade of white, her hands dropping back to her side. She becomes so pale and quiet that it seems like she doesn't exist. Before I could stutter anything, she steps back, her hands swaying and her head lolling back to stare up at the ceiling.

"Are you real? Are you alive?" She says. She lifts her arms up and starts slowly spinning, saying quietly, "Look at the walls. So bare of anything, just painted a dreary grey."

She points at everything as she speaks. "The window's been covered over since the day you moved in. Look at all the plates and bowls on the floor, messy, dirty, sloppy. Isn't it time you gave them a wash? And what about you? Stubble all over your face, greasy hair getting into your eyes."

She takes a step, her foot going through the edge of a book. Noticing, she stops spinning and takes in the floor. "And look at this! Books and papers and pencils everywhere! I know you're on winter break, but how can you live in this mess?"

She looks at me, who has slid down the wall and hugged his knees close to his chest. Without saying a word, she lets her eyes bore into me.

"You're not okay," she finally says.

"You won't be okay," she continues.

"Not until you leave this room," she finishes.

She sits down amid the mess in the room. The silence stretches across us and goes on for minutes. I bury my head in my arms, not wanting to face her, the room, and everything else.

"It's the last day of break."

The words sends a streak of anxiety down my back. My fingers tighten around my sleeves. But she doesn't say anything more. So finally, I look up, feeling exhausted.

"Okay," I croak. Immediately she jumps up, shouting and whooping.

"Woohoo!!! Yeah hah!!! He's getting up! He's getting out! I did it! I did it!" She runs around in circles, yelling and trumpeting her success- the success that has taken her two weeks to work up. I watch her run, trying to build up the willpower to stand. When I think there is a chance, shakingly, I push my hands against my knees. Slowly, I do, digging my heels into the blanket underneath.

As I walk towards the door, she quiets down and follows after me. I reach for the door, clear of all the deadbolts and chains, and pause with my hand on the doorknob. She walks to the left of me and crouches. Placing her elbows on her knees and propping her chin on her hands, she looks at me with a sincere smile on her lips. The picture of encouragement.

"Charlotte..." I say, hesitating.

"You can do it," Charlotte whispers.

I turn the doorknob, hear the click of the lock loosening, and pull the door open. My eyes meet the grey couch and dark wood table that makes up the entirety of the living room, bare walls and the same dreary grey paint. But Charlotte immediately runs past me to the couch, practically filling the room with life. I barely blink as she jumps on it and hollers again, her entire demeanour bright, eyes alight with joy, her smile from ear to ear.

"What's up, assholes! Charles --- is back in the world again! Woohoo!!!"

I couldn't help but laugh weakly. Looking back at the cluttered room with everything scattered, I see all the books and papers that have to be organized, the dishes and utensils that have to be washed, and clothes that have to be gathered and cleaned. Sighing, with Charlotte's excited screams as background noise, I pull up my sleeves and start cleaning.

**Author's Note:**

> I know it seems strange to write commentary for such a short story but I did want to say a few things.
> 
> First, this story is the result of a school assignment. I don't normally write short stories, which is a shame. I mean in essence, a chapter is sort of like a short story-
> 
> Second, this story was inspired by the game, Hello Charlotte! It's a three-parter with DLC and available on Steam! The first episode is free (marked a demo weirdly) and I really do recommend playing the game yourself or watching a playthrough of it. The character names are based off two of the characters in the series along with, er, other things.
> 
> Third, I do plan on continuing this story. Not a direct sequel exactly... while writing this story, I was thinking about other short stories I had written in the past. One of those stories I had always wanted to expand upon but was never sure how. But now, maybe two or so years later, I have a great idea for it. (however it may be awhile before I can focus my full energy on it...)
> 
> Lastly, I really do hope you enjoyed reading this story! For the first time in awhile, I actually had fun writing a story as I had fun thinking about it. This story did have a page limit and one of the pieces of feedback that I had (other than "it was interesting, I like it!" hahaha) was to make it longer. In the end, I think I got to almost two full pages (and it could have been longer. Writing visuals sure takes a lot of space).
> 
> Thank you for reading this story!


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